The Swollen One
by lazypadawan
Summary: The short vignette that answers the question of the ages: why was Kylo Ren shirtless when the Force connected him with Rey?


The Swollen One

Kylo Ren put the weights back on the rack, panting. He slowly sat up, dabbed at the sweat with a towel, and removed the buds in his ears that had been playing loud, fast, hard music. A trainer droid rolled up to him to let him know his workout was complete.

"Be sure you enter into the system that I'm pressing a thousand pounds now," he ordered the trainer droid. "I have a reputation to uphold."

"But sir, that would go against my programming to lie this outlandishly. In any case you are nowhere near that level of strength. Until today you haven't kept up your schedule."

"Because I've been injured you bucket of bolts! What's General Hux's record for bench pressing? Whatever it is, go like a hundred pounds over it." His rivalry with Hux extended to their workout stats. He wasn't about to let that no-good ginger beat him at anything.

"Again, sir..."

"Look, I can override your programming anyway. You might as well do it."

"Yes, sir," the droid said with an electronic sigh.

Kylo went over to the drink dispenser unit to get some water. One of the perks of being second only to the Supreme Leader was having your own gym. It was a small space adjacent to his quarters but just large enough to fit the galaxy's finest exercise equipment he didn't have to share with anyone else. No having to wait his turn, no disgusting sweat left by other people who refuse to wipe down, and he gets all of the water to himself. Plus there was enough space left for lightsaber and fight training.

He trained obsessively and he was fiercely proud of the results. His thirtieth birthday was approaching fast and he couldn't afford to get soft and paunchy like too many others in the First Order. Working out also allowed an outlet for Kylo's pent up aggression. For an hour or so anyway.

"Sir, I must again ask the wisdom of choosing to exercise in tight leather pants," the trainer droid said as it rolled beside him walking toward the door to his chamber. "It must not be comfortable for you at all. It can create unpleasant odors and in human males, trapped heat in the scrotal region can greatly diminish fertility."

"Trust me, I'm not knocking up anybody any time soon. As for the pants, they're comfortable, I don't smell, and they look badass. I do me, let the others stick with the pants moms on Coruscant wear when they go for caf," he said, mopping up the sweat on his brow with a towel. The door to his chamber slid open and he stepped into the dimly lit room, the cool air feeling good on his skin. He pulled off the sleeveless black top and dropped it into the laundry hamper. He would shower and dress, then the valet droid will bring his dinner to his private dining room. Which was another nice perk.

He had to admit, his body was coming along nicely in his recovery. He looked good if he didn't say so himself. Unbidden, a memory from his adolescence replayed in his mind. He had come home to visit his parents for some holiday and he had just returned from a run. He had gone to his room and pulled off his shirt just as his mother entered. He was going to hand her the shirt and ask her to drop it in the laundry hamper for him—it wasn't as though she was going to wash it—and she had stopped in her tracks, her jaw dropping.

"Oh my gods!" she'd exclaimed. "This is my son?!"

"Uh, Mom…?"

"Han, get in here! Come check this out!" His father had entered the room moments later. "Look at the fine specimen we made together!" she'd said beaming with pride, pointing at her shirtless teenage son.

"Whoa! What's Luke feeding you over there? You're freakin' ripped, boy! Go down to the beach like that and you'll find a girlfriend in no time…"

"Ugh, go away!" he shouted at no one. His parents were gone. Han Solo by his own hand, and now his inappropriate and distracted mother for her cause. Suddenly he was assaulted with feelings he didn't want to have.

So he focused his attention elsewhere. Hux? No, he hated thinking about that guy. His thoughts went to someone more intriguing and pleasant, the scavenger girl. And the bizarre connections with the Force that had been happening lately. He wondered if they could happen at random. What if they happened at embarrassing times, like while taking a shower or sitting on the fresher?

Then he felt the back of his neck tingling and a surge in the Force. Oh no…

 _Behind you._

"I'd rather not do this now." It was her voice with that beautiful backwater accent of hers. He turned, and there she was in his chamber, wrapped in a poncho. She seemed to be looking away.

Oh well. "Yeah, me too." She looked up at him, clearly able to see him, and got flustered.

This was going to be interesting.


End file.
